


Over the river and through the woods

by rocket_rach



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bad birthday presents, Blackgate, Gotham City - Freeform, Gotham City is back on its usual bullshit, Hostage Situations, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 03:56:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17317631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rocket_rach/pseuds/rocket_rach
Summary: It's Jim's birthday! But he doesn't have time for that, because something fishy is going down at Blackgate and he's got to send his best friend there to figure it out.





	Over the river and through the woods

“Commissioner,” Batman growled.

“For fucks sake!” Gordon shouted as he dropped his cigarette. “Jesus, you gotta stop doing that shit.”

“Those are going to kill you,” the vigilante responded.

“Not if you don’t give me a heart attack first,” Jim grumbled, reaching down to pick up the smoke. “Got a big case for you. Word coming from Blackgate is that Penguin is trying to set up a breakout. We’re not sure when. But the guards’ve been hearing rumors. Arkham’s been quiet for the night. Other than that,” Jim took a long drag off of his Marlboro. “Not a whole lot. Might be able to call it a short night.”

“Do you have proof?”

“’ _Do you have proof_?’ This isn’t my first day,” Jim grumbled as he reached into his coat pocket. “Here,” He extended the fax from Blackgate.

Batman took it, reading it over. In addition of warning about the breakout, the prison was requested additional guards, S.W.A.T teams, plus a large order of lethal rounds. The signature seemed to match the Warden’s, but Batman would run it through his systems nonetheless. It was sent on official prison paper, marked with the seal of Gotham City. Jim turned around to relight his cigarette. The wind at the top of the building was ruthless, and Jim had found that camel blues tended to last the longest in the wind. He turned back.

“So—Christ, why do I even bother. I know you’re not there,” He groaned, turning and finding the rooftop empty. “Goddamn enigma act.”

He stayed up on the roof, deciding that he was going to finish this cigarette. The stink of the city even managed to join him, the sharp aromas of piss and sulfur swirling around him. The city was disgusting. The crime was disgusting. This cigarette was especially disgusting. He chucked it over the wall, watching it burn and spiral.

“What a happy fucking birthday, Jim,” He muttered, heading back into the building.

 

 

It wasn’t the warden’s signature, and that was really pissing off Batman.

He picked up the fax, glaring at it. The language was correct, the requests were for the most part, reasonable; although the one asking for lethal rounds was questionable at best. The seal was official. It went start to Police Headquarters, so it had to come directly from the prison. 

The prison.

His fingers flew over his keyboard, pulling up the hacking program Barbara had gifted to him for when he needed to break into federal and state surveillance. Blackgate had been quiet for long time, and he hadn’t even noticed. It hadn’t been quiet for weeks, but a few days. That was a few days longer than Batman was comfortable with. The cameras that lined the multiple steel fences and solid granite walls revealed nothing except for guards making their rounds. He slowly clicked his way further into the prison, watching as each section revealed more and more criminals that he had put away and more that would definitely join up with Penguin.

“It’s Commissioner Gordon’s birthday, Master Bruce,” Alfred cut through his thoughts. “Have you sent your well wishes?”

“Hnn,” he responded.

“Quite. I didn’t send our usual flowers and gifts because I had made the foolish impression that you’d done so. But there’s still time.”

“I sent him something different this year,” Bruce finally spoke.

“Oh, thank god. I thought you’d received some irreparable brain damage and had lost the ability to speak. Well, I’m glad to hear it. Are you done for the night? I’m sure the Commissioner would be pleased to see you.”

“I have to do a few things, first. But, yeah. Once I’m done I’m going to head his way.”

“I remember when your parents promised me nights off when you would grow up,” Alfred grumbled as he walked away.

Bruce couldn’t stop the slight smile that tugged at his face. Once Alfred’s steps faded away, he turned back to the footage.

About two hours later, the Batmobile was snarling under Bruce’s foot. He was racing towards the island that housed Blackgate penitentiary. There had been a coup. A few guards had gone in quietly and killed the Warden, taken control of the prison and had done so with the financial support of Penguin. But even still, the idea that the penguin had the capital to buy off multiple guards as well as inmates? That was more money than historically the penguin would pay. He didn’t have time to alert the GCPD, and this point, he wasn’t sure he’d have time to alert anyone else. 

On a normal day, the sight of the Batmobile’s predatory body racing towards the prison would be enough for the arms at the gates to rise. They stayed in their down position. Batman saw the guard sitting in the booth. He may have even waved at him as he broke through the arm, the exhaust at the rear of his car spitting out just tad more fire than was strictly necessary. Klaxons, spotlights, and sirens all blared to life, all screaming about the dark knight’s entrance. He drifted to the front entrance, the sounds of rabid, snarling guard dogs howling in fury reaching his ears. Batman charged inside, feeling the blades _schlick_ their way out of his gauntlets. It was going to be a nasty fight.

He smiled.

 

It’d been three weeks since Blackgate announced that it was under prisoner control and that any attempt by any cops or feds would result in the Batman’s death. Just to prove that the Bat was still alive, they would post some videos on YouTube of various inmates taking turns beating him. Those videos had Jim Gordon sitting on his fire escape, a cigarette gripped between his index and middle finger and in tears.

“Dad?” Barbara called as she walked into his room. “Are you – Hi, dad,” she murmured, spotting his silhouette outside the window. She pushed up the wooden frame and joined him.

“Hiya, Barb,” He sighed. “He’s still in there. They got the damned place lined with explosives all around the fences and snipers in the towers. We… We can’t get in. Not without killing him or half the GCPD.”

“I know you miss him,” She murmured as she leaned into him. “He’ll find a way out of there. He’ll find a way back to you.”

Jim leaned over and pressed a kiss into her hairline. “How’d you get to be so smart?”

“Got it from my dad, I guess.”

Another week passed. Then another. Eventually, the videos of Batman show a broken man being beaten by broken men. A month passed. Finally, at the month and a half mark, the videos of the Batman stopped. The city erupted. Headlines asked the question that was on everyone’s minds; Where was The Batman? It was especially annoying for Jim Gordon, because now there was nothing holding back the criminals that were _out_ of prison. They’d reinstated the police blimps, and even asked Metropolis for help.

But Blackgate was still untouchable and Batman was still missing.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday Jim!!!!


End file.
